#barsen’thor

[lanabenikosdoormat]

lanabenikosdoormat can not be stopped in her quest to post the worst content ever imagined

[aeskanera]

Old Republic O/PCs:

The Scorekeeper’s Herald, also known by the Jedi title “Barsen’thor”

[swtorpadawan]

A Jedi Consular’s Path – Chapter One: How We Came to This Point

Author’s Notes: The following story is part of my Halcyon Legacy and features a character I rarely get to write about Ulannium Kaarz. It takes place during the five-year gap from Knights of the Fallen Empire in the aftermath of the fall of Tython. Expect a handful of game-canon divergences as well as cameos from minor NPCs from the game.

Jedi Master Ulannium Kaarz let out a heavy sigh as he rested his palms against the now-extinguished holo-terminal.

It has been a long day.

The Barsen’thor of the Jedi Order reflected on the present situation. If he were being candid with himself, it had been a string of long days dating back almost a year.

A moment earlier, he had been speaking over the holo with Nalen Raloch. Once an enemy long ago, the Twi’lek had turned into an ally and even a friend. The two Jedi had exchanged words of admiration and respect as Nalen had prepared to make his final stand against the Zakuulan ground forces on Tython. He had been part of the final rear guard, covering the evacuation.

If that final report had been accurate, Nalen was one of two Jedi still alive on Tython. And he was on the brink of being overrun by an enemy that had taken no prisoners.

Ulannium recalled how he had first met Nalen all those years ago. As the champion defender of Kalikori Village, the Twi’lek had been corrupted by the holocron of Rajivari, leading him to plot the destruction of the Jedi Order. Ulannium, still a Padawan at the time, had defeated Nalen in single combat, starting the Twi’lek on the path of recovery. But it had been the man himself who had found the strength within himself to become someone better.

It was strange to think that Nalen, who had joined the order relatively late in life as a grown adult under such inauspicious circumstances and after such a brush with the dark side, might have just ended his life as a better Jedi than Ulannium - one of the most celebrated Jedi of his generation - had lived his.

As he continued to grip the display for support, Ulannium felt Future's Vision, his Mark II Defender special transport frigate, launch into hyperspace, leaving the Tython system behind.

For the second time in two generations, the Jedi were headed into exile.

Right on schedule. The Mirialan Jedi Master thought to himself as his wrist communicator beeped. He automatically toggled the control switch to receive.  

“All the other ships have reported in, Master Jedi.” Felix Iresso reported from the pilot’s seat of the Future’s Vision’s bridge. “Green board for everyone. I know we paid a heck of a price to get off Tython, but the evac fleet managed to make it out clean.”

Ulannium forced himself to smile approvingly despite the dire situation.

“Excellent work, Felix.” Despite him amicable words, his voice sounded strained even to his own ears. “I’ll let you know when we have coordinates for the next jump.”

“Got it.” the former Republic officer acknowledged. “Hey, get some rest, okay, boss? You sound like you need it. Felix out.”

With that, the communicator deactivated, leaving the Mirialan Jedi Master alone with his thoughts.

It’s done.

They had successfully evacuated the remnants of the Jedi Order from Tython… but as Felix had said, the cost had been astronomical. Nalen Raloch, Bengel Morr and so many others had sacrificed themselves to make good their escape.

Ulannium could only hope that their sacrifices had not been in vain.

So many choices. Ulannium thought to himself. So many sacrifices for so such meager gains. So many have fallen just to take us to this sorry state as refugees, and to leave our responsibilities to the rest of the galaxy behind.

Master Gnost-Dural, the Lore Keeper of the Jedi Archives, had revealed their final destination to no one, not even to Ulannium, the Barsen’thor of the Order and Dural’s sole remaining active colleague from the council. But he had promised them all that he had found a place for the surviving Jedi to withdraw. To regroup. To heal. To study. And to train.

A place where they could learn how to be Jedi again.

It was a tempting offer given the horrors they had just escaped and the multitude of misfortunes that had befallen the Jedi in the past year. Ulannium had no reason to question the aged Kel Dor’s sincerity that he could provide such a sanctuary.

He only wished that he could complete that journey with him. Inducted into the Order at the age of six, Ulannium had spent almost his entire life working towards this point. His accomplishments by the age of thirty-two had been remarkable in the eyes of everyone. Friends, allies, even enemies.

Now, in the aftermath of this disaster, he was about to throw it all away.

Letting out an exhale, Ulannium turned away from the holo-terminal and walked down the corridor to the passenger compartment, his slight build easily cutting around the excess of people and supply crates packed into the corridors. He knew full well that Future’s Vision – the last ship to lift off Tython – was practically overflowing with survivors from the evacuation.

The galaxy behind them had already begun to feel the Jedi’s absence. Word had reached them just before the evacuation that Coruscant was being blockaded by yet another flotilla of Eternal Fleet ships. He knew such circumstances would devastate a planet like the Republic capital world where untold billions of people lived. Even with its extensive network of underground microorganism farms, his home planet relied heavily on the surplus of at least twenty agricultural worlds to fulfill their daily food needs. Even with rationing, people would be starving within days.

Ulannium’s appeals to Chancellor Saresh to seek an armistice with the Sith Empire so they could focus on the mutual threat of Zakuul had all been rejected out of hand. As had everyone else’s.  

Another failure. He privately lamented. The people of the Republic, and the galaxy, were paying for the failures of the council. And of Ulannium.

He wondered what his parents – killed during the last Sack of Coruscant nearly twenty years before – would think of him now.

Would they have been proud? Would they have been ashamed? Would they regret sending their Force-sensitive son to the Jedi in the first place? Or would they have logically reasoned that he would have almost certainly died along with them and his sister on Coruscant during the bombardment if he had stayed?       

Ulannium wished he knew.

As he passed among the dozens of Jedi packed into the cargo bay, his eyes caught sight of Denielle offering comfort to a Republic soldier who’d been wounded in the arm during the evacuation. The medical bay was too small to support this many wounded, so the Jedi – and a handful of others who had joined them – were making due where they could. To that end, the young Zeltron had been knighted only two days ago, just before the attack on Tython had begun. Her ‘Jedi trials’ had been Zakuulan invasion these last few months. Despite her youth, she had done the order proud. Still, she had been forced to grow up far too quickly.

All of us were. Ulannium thought silently to himself, reflecting on his own life. He’d been born into a galaxy at war that had culminated with the death of his family, and he couldn’t deny those events had shaped him.

Putting those thoughts aside, the young Jedi Master pressed on, finally reaching the medical bay. He, too, should have been assisting in the healing efforts, despite his fatigue. Most likely, with so many losses in the last few years, he was one of the most skilled Jedi in Force healing remaining. Those with his gift were in high demand.

But right at this moment, he had an unpleasant task to accomplish first.  

Now standing in the doorway to the med bay, Ulannium gazed into the cramped chamber, where the most grievously injured were being treated.  

It was then that he saw her.

Nadia was hard at work assisting Archiban “Doc” Kimble in treating yet another one of the wounded evacuee. Her personal healing technique was unrefined, but her dedication and her compassion were serving her well in this role as a de facto nurse.

Nadia Grell. Jedi Knight.

Even now, three years later, the very notion filled him with pride.

Looking downward, Ulannium recognized the injured Jedi they were treating as Laranna Fain. The veteran Jedi Guardian and the daughter of Master Duras Fain had long since recovered from her experiences aboard the Carida years ago when she’d slain many innocents while under the sway of Lord Vivicar and his ‘Dark Plague’. Ulannium, with the aid of Tharan Cedrax, had ultimately shielded her from the dark lord’s influence, setting her on a path of recovery.

Another memory. He thought to himself. Another of my great ‘victories’.

Those so-called victories all tasted so hollow now. Laranna Fain might survive this day, but so many others had fallen.

People like Nalen Raloch.

Despite the intense circumstances, Ulannium found himself admiring Nadia as she worked. Even working past the point of exhausting and concentrating on her work so intently with a furrowed brow, she was as beautiful as ever.

Nadia had come so far since he had met her all those years ago. Given her age and the tragic death of her father, most would have expected it would have taken her a decade or longer to have earned her place as a Jedi Knight. She’d easily beaten that estimate, achieving her Knighthood just over a year after becoming his Padawan. During the last few days, she had served magnificently in aiding the evacuation, leading a series of pre-emptive strikes against Zakuulan positions before assisting Gnost-Dural and Ulannium in extracting the Jedi Archives from the Temple. Her combat outfit, inspired by that worn by Satele Shan, was lightly damaged with frayed edges and burn marks, but Ulannium was satisfied that Nadia herself was uninjured.

Satele…

Grand Master Satele Shan, leader of the Jedi Order for more than a decade and their champion in the first great war against the Sith, had fallen out of contact with them five days ago during their evacuation preparations, claiming to have a formulated a plan to stall the Eternal Fleet’s attack. Her final communique had been to effectively recognize Ulannium and Gnost-Dural as the Order’s leaders, and to advise them to continue their plans. Ulannium could only assume her delaying tactic had succeeded; the assault had come two days later than he’d expected based on his calculations. Regardless of whether Satele had sacrificed herself or not, her efforts had likely saved countless lives.

He wondered if the real reason she’d left had been because the order was abandoning Tython, the world she herself had once led the rediscovery and resettlement of after the signing of the Treaty of Coruscant years prior. Publicly, Satele, Ulannium and the council had presented a united front. To the order and to the Republic.

Privately, they’d had their differences. Ulannium had pressured into implementing several reforms that had no doubt rankled the more ‘traditionally minded’ among the Jedi. Despite their challenging relationship, Ulannium now regretted that he’d left things with Satele the way he had. He had never expected to feel her absence so acutely. He certainly had never wanted her title or her job.

The burden of leadership wore heavily upon him, considering Satele was not the only member of the Council to have ‘departed’ recently.

Bela Kiwiiks and her apprentice, the Sith Pureblood known as Praven, had been transporting a small group of Jedi younglings to Tython from an auxiliary enclave to join their coming exodus. Since her retirement from active field duty, the Togruta Jedi Master had been most active in nurturing and protecting the Order’s youngest recruits. When their ship had been cut off from Tython as a result of the fighting, Kiwiiks had sent an encoded transmission to inform them that she and her immediate charges were safe, but she’d decided that they would not be joining the Order on their retreat into exile. Kiwiiks gave assurances that she had a plan for the younglings’ survival and education. True to form, she had finished her message with the ubiquitous ‘May the Force be With You’.

Ulannium had been concerned with her plan and had proposed a search and retrieval mission. Gnost-Dural, however, had declared himself satisfied.

“She must find her own path, both for herself and her young charges.” The Jedi Archivist reminded him at the time. “Besides, there are many more younglings here on Tython who we are responsible for.”

The implications of Dural’s words were not lost on Ulannium. Wherever they were headed, Dural was clearly not expecting this to be a brief exile. The Jedi needed to preserve their future. For an order of beings who strongly discouraged traditional sexual reproduction among their numbers, that meant they needed to bring the children with them so the Jedi would have someone to teach. Just as Ulannium had been taught so many years ago as a child on Uphrades.

Other Jedi Council members had gone missing or had given their lives in the faltering defense of the Republic, with the most heroic sacrifice coming less than an hour before by Master Oteg. The Jedi admiral and the last of his fleet had given their lives against the Zakuulans to cover the Jedi’s escape into hyperspace.

Though Syo Bakarn hadn’t been on the council in years, Ulannium had also felt the absence of his old mentor. He’d not been able to visit with him in person; despite his title of Barsen’thor and his place on the Council, Ulannium had accepted that he need not know where he withdrawn to after their confrontation on Corellia years before, when the First Son had been defeated. The Jedi Master had deserved his peace. Instead, they had exchanged encrypted messages from time to time, but even these had become infrequent once the Zakuulans had invaded. The risk of interception had been too great; the time too short.

He now wished he had written one more letter to Master Syo. He wished he had sought his wisdom once again, if only for the last time.

Ulannium and Gnost-Dural were – effectively – all that remained of the once-vaunted Jedi Council, supposedly the wisest Jedi in all the galaxy. And they had been reduced to leading a group of beleaguered refugees into hiding while the rest of the galaxy suffered.

As a Jedi Master, Ulannium fully understood the futility of dwelling on the past as he was. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but think about what might have been. He had lost so many friends over the years, either through diverging pathways or – more often – those allies becoming one with the Force.

He remembered Hallow Voice, the leader of the free Esh-kha, who had proclaimed him Sky-hunter. He had led his people into exile after the defeat on Ord Mantell; Ulannium could not fault them for their choice. The Esh-kha had fought and bled for the Republic. He hoped his old friend still lived, and that he was leading his people in peace.

He remembered Gaden-Ko, the Voss Mystic, who had joined with the Rift Alliance to learn more about the galaxy, and perhaps about himself. Despite holding a position of leadership amongst his people, the young Force-sensitive had viewed so many things with an innocence of youth that Ulannium had found refreshing. He had been a delight to teach. But when Voss itself came under the threat of the Eternal Empire, Gaden-Ko had regretfully withdrawn his commandoes from the Alliance, taking them back to Voss. Zakuul’s effective interdict on that world would have prevented any further communications, and Ulannium could only hope his former protégé and ally was well.

But even more deeply than those two, Ulannium missed his old crew.

Holiday had departed not long before the war with Zakuul had begun. With her enhanced capabilities, she’d wanted to fully explore herself and she couldn’t do that from their ship. Ulannium had been sorry to see her go, but he recognized that new experiences were critical to personal growth, and he’d been impressed when Tharan had given her his blessing as well.

After months of opposing the invasion alongside the crew, Tharan Cedrax had finally left, claiming to have been offered an opportunity to research technologies that would turn the tide against the Eternal Fleet. In truth, Tharan had seemed to go adrift without Holiday in his life, becoming more withdrawn. Privately, Ulannium suspected the scientist had been drinking to excess. He knew there were things his old friend wasn’t telling him but accepted that – like Holiday – Tharan had to make his own path. Ulannium could only hope that path had led Tharan to himself.

Like Gaden-Ko, Zenith had departed when his home planet was threatened, returning to Balmorra. The industrial world, like so many others, was under siege to the Eternal Empire, and the former guerilla fighter seemed eager to resume his old trade in light of “Republic ineffectiveness”. Ulannium had always known the Twi’lek revolutionary would put his home ahead of the rest of the galaxy and so he was not surprised. Although they’d been very different people, the Jedi wondered if perhaps it had been Ulannium who hadn’t learned enough from that association.

Qyzen Fess had been one of his closest friends and allies since before Ulannium had even been named a Jedi Knight back on Tython all those years ago. In addition to Qyzen’s exceptional abilities as a tracker and fighter, Ulannium had learned much about weighing the value of traditions against the need for every people to change and adapt from the old Trandoshan hunter. He wished they’d remained together for longer, but once it became clear the Jedi order’s priority was to preserve its existence, Qyzen had regretfully made his exit.

“Many points to be earned for the Scorekeeper fighting Zakuulans, Herald.” He had declared. “Even in dark times, we must still be hunters.”

Part of Ulannium found himself agreeing with Qyzen. But even the Barsen’thor of the Jedi Order had been unable to find a way to turn the tide against Zakuul’s onslaught.

These departures had reduced his old crew down to two.

Lieutenant Felix Iresso had gone years without promotion despite a multitude of accomplishments, commendations and medals. Apparently, Republic command had a long memory concerning Felix’s memory loss, even in times when experienced field officers were in short supply. The soldier had proven his loyalty many times over, finally refusing orders to transfer him to the frontlines so he could remain by Ulannium’s side. He had effectively gone AWOL from the Republic military, and had matters been less chaotic, he’d have risked arrest in the Republic. He’d sacrificed everything for Ulannium and the Jedi because he believed they needed him the most.

And he’d been right.

Inevitably, Ulannium’s thoughts circled back to Nadia, even as he watched her treat more patients.

Even early in their association, he had recognized his feelings for her. Her innocence, her intelligence, her beauty and her determination to do the right thing all spoke to him in a way he couldn’t put into words. Naturally, as a Jedi - and as Nadia’s master - he had doggedly resisted those thoughts. He’d spent hours meditating on his dilemma, attempting to analyze the situation logically. Senator Tobas Grell had entrusted his daughter’s safety and training to him, and to him alone. Were it otherwise, he would have had her placed with a new Jedi Master, one who would not experience such complications.

So Ulannium had held fast and true.

… Until the moment that Nadia herself - minutes after being Knighted - had pressed her lips to his. From that moment forward the dam had burst and his famous stoic Jedi resolve was lost.

It had taken the two of them a long time to find their feet again. Once they had, he could not imagine his existence without Nadia in it.

There had been no formal ceremony to mark their wedding a year later; simply an exchange of vows in the custom of Nadia’s people. Ulannium had not added to his Mirialan tattoos since he’d been a child; but for the first time since he could remember, he’d wanted to mark his body to declare himself hers. To celebrate their love and joining. He had not, of course. Doing so would have resulted in expulsion from the order for the both of them. But the thought had never completely escaped him.

He didn’t know how he would have made it through the last few months - or the last few days - without Nadia’s strength and support behind him.

Reassuring as Nadia had been to him, however, Ulannium found his thoughts drifting to his old friend, Corellan Halcyon.

Believed killed at the start of the war with Zakuul, the Order, the Republic and – perhaps! – the galaxy itself had sorely missed the Hero of Tython’s presence.

Ulannium knew that he certainly had.

The Barsen’thor of the Jedi Order had long heard the whispers around the temple on Tython concerning his own path. They whispered that he was the best Jedi of his generation. They whispered that his knowledge of the Force was unprecedented for one so young. They whispered that his leadership and diplomatic talents were without equal. They whispered that if Ulannium had not already been serving as Barsen’thor, it would have been he and not Gnost-Dural who would have been tasked with preserving the Jedi Archives.

Some had even (quietly) whispered that one day, he, Ulannium Kaarz, would succeed Master Satele as the Grand Master of the Jedi Order.

But for all of those accolades, he was not Corellan Halcyon.

Ulannium Kaarz may have been the ‘model Jedi’ of his generation. It had been centuries since a younger Jedi than himself had been named to the Council.

But Corellan had been their champion. Their hero. The great warrior who had always found a way to pull victory from the jaws of defeat so that the order and the Republic could survive one more day. He had been the one who would never give up, no matter the odds.

Ulannium hadn’t felt Corellan’s death during the attack on Darth Marr’s expedition fleet less than a year ago. Given their shared history and their connection through the Force, that detail had surprised him and had even given him cause to hope. But as each defeat against the Eternal Empire had driven the Jedi and Republic back, that hope had slowly evaporated. Knowing Corellan as he did, there was no chance whatsoever he would simply sit the war out in quiet retirement while the galaxy burned. He certainly could not sense him anywhere in the galaxy through the Force.

No. His friend – his oldest friend – was almost certainly dead.

He remembered that time they’d shared drinks at the cantina on Carrick station. It had been a few months after their joint operation against Darth Malgus at Ilum and they’d found a few minutes to reminisce on their shared childhoods on Uphrades, and on the strange turns their lives had taken since then. Corellan had – with an eloquence that Ulannium would have once thought beyond him back when he’d been an awkward youth – explained how much Ulannium had inspired him back when they’d been younglings.  

“It meant the galaxy to me, Ulannium.” The Hero of Tython had concluded. “The meditations, the studying, all of it. It helped me apply myself to something other than lightsaber training.”

The human had smiled across the table at the Mirialan.

“I’m a better Jedi today because of you.”

Ulannium had blinked at this revelation, then sipped his own drink. Taking a moment before setting the glass down, he looked back at Corellan, his bright green eyes looking into Corellan’s pale blues. If he’d ever questioned whether their friendship had survived into adulthood, those had been answered this day.

“I’m a better person today because of you.” He answered.

It had been in Corellan’s memory that Ulannium had persuaded the Jedi to take in Doctor Kimble when he’d contacted them. The field medic had been a member of Corellan’s crew before the Hero of Tython’s death, and Ulannium felt there was little question that such medical expertise would be sorely needed. “Doc”, as he was called, had indeed proven himself an asset to the Jedi and Nadia had only had to have a word with him once about flirting with female members of the order. Since then, he’d been impeccably professional. Ulannium - who hadn’t heard about the situation until after the fact - had decided to take the situation as a measure of Nadia’s growing talent for conflict resolution.  

Looking back now, Ulannium fervently wished he had been a better friend to Corellan. The interests of the Order had required that he’d made several… questionable decisions over the years, some of them indirectly impacting the young Jedi Battlemaster. Ulannium would like to have told himself he had done so due to necessity; that the war effort against the Sith Empire – combined with the mistakes of others – had prevented him from acting as a friend ought to have. But… no. That was the trap the generation of Jedi before him had fallen into. Satele Shan, Bela Kiwiiks, Jaric Kaedan and Syo Bakarn… each had achieved remarkable, even legendary feats as Jedi. Each had ultimately fallen short of upholding the ideals of the Jedi because of various forms of self-delusion. They had managed to convince themselves that whatever actions happened to benefit themselves and their fellows also benefitted the order and the Republic.

Ulannium refused to repeat their mistakes. He would face the consequences of his actions with open eyes.

In the unlikely event that he did see Corellan again – whether in this life or in the next as part of the Force – Ulannium promised himself that he would tell his old friend everything.

Even if the price of those confessions was their friendship.

As he continued to stand at the entrance of the med bay, Ulannium reflected on everything he’d accomplished to get to this point, and everyone he’d lost.

He didn’t know if it had been worth it. He wondered if he ever would.

Ulannium gave one last glance at Nadia where she was still helping Doc treat the wounded. As if sensing his presence, the young Sarkhai glanced up and caught his look. She gave him a reassuring smile and nodded to him in understanding.

Nadia knew what he was about. They’d spent hours talking about it.

He knew he was about to destroy her future as well. All the work she had put in to becoming a Jedi Knight would be gone. Perhaps the royal family of Sarkhai would keep her on as a diplomat.

Yes, she had achieved the rank of Knight. But they had developed feelings for each other that could not be denied.

Ulannium had ultimately failed as her master.

Now, he was about to fail her as a husband.

Why she’d put up with him and all of his faults, he had no idea. But he knew he had to do this, and she had understood. They would have been unable to carry on as they had once their journey finished, not surrounded by so many other Jedi.

The timing of this was regrettable, but there’d been no question that the Jedi had needed them to successfully evacuate Tython. And if what Master Gnost-Dural had told them about their destination was any indication, they would be unable to move once they reached sanctuary: The security and secrecy of their safe-haven was too important.

It had to be now.

Ulannium gave Nadia a weak smile back, then turned and departed, making his way to the conference room.

“A Jedi serves truth.” Nowan Ko had instructed Ulannium and Corellan years ago, back on Uphrades. The Cathar Jedi Master had used a raft tied to the shore of the coastline of the line to help illustrate her point. “Be as diplomatic as you must. Show as much compassion and kindness as you can. Use deception consciously and strategically if there is no other choice. But remember that the truth is much like the rope, securing this raft.”

With that, she’d drawn her lightsaber and cut through the rope, letting the raft loose on the water. The small wooden craft had quickly been pulled out to sea.

“Once you cut away the truth, once you embrace the open waters of deception, you risk going adrift. Therefore, a Jedi should strive to always be honest.”

Ulannium had been living a lie for the last three years, if not longer.

Master Gnost-Dural certainly deserved to know the truth. No doubt wherever they were headed, he would have learned it sooner or later regardless.

Better to tell him now rather than guarantee discovery later. Ulannium had decided, some days ago when he’d discussed it with Nadia. Whatever his other regrets and mistakes, he could at least meet the end of his time as a Jedi with honesty.

Entering the hectic conference room, Ulannium saw his fellow councilor surrounded by younger Jedi giving reports on the evacuation.

At Dural’s side, standing stoically amidst the bustle, was Lerek Serrus. The former Sith Apprentice who Ulannium had first met during the liberation of Balmorra so many years before. After their confrontation and the death of Darth Lachris years before, the young man had willingly volunteered to join the order. Unlike Zenith, he’d elected to stay with the Jedi, even as the threat of Zakuul threatened his home world. Most recently, he appeared to have appointed himself as Gnost-Dural’s bodyguard. Based on what Ulannium had seen during the evacuation, the former Sith appeared to be doing an admirable job. Master Gnost-Dural was by no means weak, but nor was he the warrior he’d once been. It was a credit to Lerek’s protection that he appeared to have emerged from the fighting unscathed.  

As Ulannium observed the others, he reflected that there would be dozens if not hundreds of reports to sort through. From personnel assignments to remaining supplies to medical reports on the wounded. From his time leading the Rift Alliance to serving on the council, Ulannium was no stranger to the realities of administration or bureaucracy, but this task would prove to be herculean. As he’d been overseeing the fleet’s evacuation, the burden of overseeing the order’s immediate future had fallen on the older master.

Ulannium wished he wasn’t about to add to that burden.

“Master.” Ulannium approached and bowed to Gnost-Dural. “May I please speak with you privately?”

The Jedi Master looked up from his datapad and, after a moment, inclined his head at the request. Around them, it was as if the commotion of activity had suddenly been paused.

“Please excuse us, everyone.” Dural addressed the room. “See to the wounded, and then review the condition of our ships. We have far to go before we reach our destination, and we must ensure that we are not tracked.”

Reluctantly, the assembled Jedi collected their reports and departed. They all looked as tired as Ulannium felt, but they knew their duty. Lerek gave him a nod of respect as he departed, the last one out the door.

Finally alone, Gnost-Dural gestured for his counterpart to take a seat at the table. Ulannium had hosted summits and planned military operation from that very table, but today, he considered it Gnost-Dural’s by right.

“I’ve seen the initial reports.” The older Jedi Master offered, as he poured them each a mug of water from the small cistern on the table. “All things considered, the fact that we are alive at all is a testament not only to the sacrifices of those we lost, but to your leadership and planning as well. We did well to have evacuated so many within such a short window.”

Ulannium watched silently as the Kel Dor fixed the straw of his mask to drink, then sipped his own water.

“It’ll take us a long time to recover from this setback.” he considered, reflecting on his own time his coming of age in the years following the Sack of Coruscant. The Mirialan found he had a difficult time remaining positive given the dire situation. “A generation if not more.”

Dural seemed unfazed.

“Great challenges lay ahead of us to be sure, but do not be disheartened for the future. I have found a place where the Order can heal. And be born again.” He tilted his head. “Indeed. I sent your old Master ahead to prepare it for us.”

Ulannium raised an eyebrow. He had not seen Yuon Parr since before the Eternal Empire’s invasion. Indeed, he’d feared she’d been killed defending some forgotten archaeological dig. He felt a sense of relief to know that she was still alive.

That led to another regret. When he and Nadia departed, he’d be denied the chance to meet with his old master again, and any future communication would almost certainly be out of the question.

“I appreciate that more than I can tell you, Master.” Ulannium answered weakly. “But this is not why I asked to speak with you.”

The Jedi archivist paused for a long moment, setting down his mug and inclining his head again.

“Of course. I assume you wished to inform me about your covert relationship with your former Padawan?”

Ulannium blinked, then felt his jaw drop open as he processed the Jedi Master’s words.

“You…” he stopped himself, hastily taking a sip of water from his glass and swallowing. “You knew?”

Like all members of his species living away from their home world of Dorin, Master Gnost-Dural wore an antiox breath-mask with protective goggles just to survive the atmosphere of other worlds and artificial environments such as ships. This meant discerning anything from his facial expressions was nearly impossible, even to one attuned to the Force. But in this exact moment, Ulannium had the distinct impression of wry amusement coming from the wizened Kel Dor.

“I am old, Master Ulannium.” he answered. “I am neither dead nor blind.”

It took all the stoicism Ulannium had developed over his thirty-two years of life to compose himself.

“You didn’t say anything.” he pressed. “We’ve been preparing for this day for weeks, and you never exposed us.”

Dural made a dismissive wave of his hand.

“There were other priorities.” he offered by way of explanation. “I imagine others may suspect, but if so no one has said anything to me.”

The Mirialan chewed that over. Ulannium always imagined they’d been discreet, but now uncertainty threatened to overtake him. He resolved to stay the course.

“Then you understand why I have to leave.” he finally forced out the words of regret.  

Gnost-Dural took up his mug again, taking a slow draw through his straw.

“You believe that you and Knight Grell must depart the fleet, so as not to compromise yourselves any further.”

The Jedi master’s choice of words gave Ulannium pause.

“How could I do otherwise?” he insisted. “If we allowed this connection for all Jedi, what then? The order can’t operate like that. And if we did make an exception, then I’d be a hypocrite.”  

Ulannium took in a breath and then slowly let it out.

“And I… I cannot let her go, Master. I know it goes against our Code, but it is not within me to sever our bond. I fought against it for too long.”

Gnost-Dural simply sat across from him, regarding his younger colleague for a long moment.

“I am aware of your predicament, Master Ulannium. That is why I am asking that you stay.” He sipped through his straw again. “I cannot formally condone what you’ve done, true, but I refuse to condemn it.”

Ulannium blinked again.

“But why? I am a failure.”

The Jedi archivist set his mug down.

“You are nothing of the sort. I have seen enough of your conduct to satisfy myself, and the Order needs you, Master Ulannium.” Gnost-Dural emphasized his title. “It needs your leadership. And someday, when the time comes, the rest of the galaxy will need you again, as well. I’m getting too old for this sort of thing. I have no intention of continuing this venture without you at my side.”

He picked up a datapad, regarding it. From what Ulannium could see, it was a report on the fighting before the final withdrawal.

“You made the right decisions during the evacuation of Tython, difficult though they must have been.” He continued. “I have seen you send Knight Grell – and other personal associates of yours as well – into danger, all while knowing some of them would not return. You have accomplished what few Jedi are capable of; yes, you have attachments, but you mind those attachments, so they do not control you.”

Dural set the pad back down.

“I have no doubt in your ability to continue to lead wisely – and objectively – moving forward.”

The Kel Dor folded his clawed fingers together in contemplation.

“Though as you’ve indicated, not every Jedi is capable of your mindfulness. I fear many if not most would inevitably falter if put to the test. So in the future, I would ask that you and Knight Grell maintain a certain level of decorum while in public so as not to set a difficult precedent with the others.”  Dural continued to refer to Nadia by her formal title, a fact that wasn’t lost on Ulannium. “And as you say, if we allowed everyone this indulgence, our cohesion would crumble.”

The Mirialan Jedi Master felt a blush come to his cheeks; suddenly feeling like an adolescent. Given that during his own time as a ‘model youngling’ he’d never been scolded for anything more nefarious than reading after bedtime, it was a new experience to him.

“I… understand.” He finally answered. “Thank you, Master.”

Ulannium was startled at how relieved he felt. For all the losses he had suffered of late and the challenges that lay ahead of him, a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“How can I ever thank you for your kindness and understanding?”

Gnost-Dural reached across the table and lightly patted Ulannium’s arm reassuringly.

“When the time comes, return it to someone else who needs it.”

Taking a moment, he refilled both of their glasses.

“Now tell me, Master Ulannium.” The Jedi Archivist queried. “How did we come to this point?”

END

Author’s Notes: This story – the first chapter in a new series – essentially picks up where one of my previous works – This Moment , ends.

Like Corellan, Ulannium is primarily a light-side character. Unlike Corellan, however, making the “Paragon” choices in the game doesn’t always come naturally to him. To borrow a Dungeons & Dragons term, Ulannium primarily falls into the ‘Lawful Neutral’ alignment. Simply put, he’s working out of a rulebook. When he makes the light-side choice, he does so because the Jedi Code guides him to it. His relationship with Nadia obviously conflicted him for a long time, something I hope to expand on in future installments of this series.

In case it wasn’t clear, this story is canon-divergent where it comes to the pacing of the Jedi Consular-Nadia Grell romance. As written in the game, I find it problematic on many levels. This series based around Ulannium will hopefully address much of that. (Look at that. Here I am writing fix-it fic.) To that end, I’m tagging @walk-ng-saster, who expressed similar sentiments. More of that another time, but on a related note, Nadia should have been recognized as a Jedi Knight sometime before KOTFE, and that is a hill I will die upon.

Regardless of the Legacy in question, I’m intrigued at the idea of the Outlander’s absence during the five-year gap having a dramatic effect on everyone else, including the other class original characters in the player’s legacy. I’ve already written a bit about how Bas’riish, my smuggler, dealt with Corellan being absent. (Click here to read Three Years .)

Now it’s Ulannium’s turn.

I disliked Felix’s Alliance Alert return after Knights of the Eternal Throne. Torturing and traumatizing a character just to make them more interesting is a privilege I reserve for my own characters, thank you very much. So I’m fixing that in my work.

If it wasn’t obvious, Ulannium, Nadia and Gnost-Dural are all headed to Ossus. That’s one of the reasons why you all get a Doc cameo. (Doc is still Doc, but I’m confident Nadia can keep him in line.)

The Jedi Knight and the Jedi Consular are leading vastly different lives during the class stories; in the case of the Hero of Tython, their ship is crewed by a small, intimate group of mismatched personalities. With the Barsen’thor, you do get the mismatched personalities but there are so many supporting characters, it feels like a General Assembly of the United Nations in there. On that note, many jokes have been made about the sheer number of people who ocmugy the Barsen’thor’s ship, and that it seems far too small to be sustainable. I’ve even heard some Doctor Who Tardis references. I head-canon that although the ship follows the same aesthetics as the standard Defender freighter from the Jedi Knight story, it’s actually a much larger vessel with considerable transport capacity, similar to the vessel we see under Jaesa Willsaam’s control during chapter one of the Sith Warrior story, where you wind up fighting (or trolling) a pair of Jedi Knights sent by Nomen Karr.    

I’ve spoken about what happens to Bela Kiwiiks and Praven in my story before.

Many interesting supporting characters appear during the Jedi Consular story who just seem to quickly fade into the background without any satisfying resolution. This frustrates me, and I think is one of the reasons I consider the canon story a waste of potential. To address this, some of those characters appear here.

I’ve spoken about Nalen Raloch before.We never hear from him again aside from a letter you get after leaving Tython.

Laranna Fain makes an appearing here after her introduction in the first chapter of the Jedi Consular story. You cure (or kill) her father on Nar Shaddaa before thwarting (by curing or killing) Laranna on that Republic transport ship in-between planets. We never get a follow-up concerning Laranna and her recovery, which is unfortunate.    

Another example of this is Lerek Serrus, who appears on Balmorra in chapter two of the Jedi Consular story; he’s a Sith Apprentice protégé of Darth Lachris you encounter. He’s memorable first for being a native Balmorran, and second for the fact that if you take the light-side dialogue options, you can talk him into walking away from the fight and re-examining his life choices. Like Laranna, we never hear what happens to Lerek if he lives in the game-story. I try to give him a resolution here.

Yuon Par gets a mention in this piece. She is completely discarded after chapter one of the game story, and by the end, some players assume that Syo Bakarn was the character’s Jedi Master the whole time. That’s a shame because she’s such a fun and quirky character. That’s no disrespect to Syo, who is obviously mentioned in this chapter and who I intend to follow up on.

Master Oteg isn’t Consular specific, but he’s certainly memorable from the The Maelstrom Prison flashpoint. I was sad to give him an ending, but I had this planned for a long time.

I may reintroduce more supporting characters in further chapters.

Nadia is wearing a variant of Satele Shan’s armor set from the game. More on that here.

I’ve mentioned the Uphrades enclave before. The planet appears in the Jedi Knight class story, but the Jedi presence on it was my own creation. Hopefully, I’ll actually get to show some it to you in the future.

The game story canonizes that the Jedi Consular is a Force-healer, even if they are a Jedi Shadow.

Gnost-Dural’s “I’m getting too old for this sort of thing.” line is an Easter egg to Obi-Wan’s line to Luke in A New Hope. Love me some Alec Guinness.

Fun fact – George Lucas based the concept of Coruscant on the planet Trantor from Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series. That’s where I drew the references for micro-organism farms and the twenty agricultural worlds and so on. The logistics involved in supplying such a planet are staggering, a reality touched on in the game story with the Mandalorian Blockade during the first war and after Uphrades destruction at the hands of the Darth Angral and the Planet Prison superweapon in the Jedi Knight class story.

Denielle appears in two of my earlier stories: Training Day and Incomplete. No Tyzen Pyne here, unfortunately, but I will hopefully be covering what he’s been up to in the near future.

Tagging interested parties! @actualanxiousswampwitch​ @anchanted-one​ @cassthechaoticmercenary​ @cryo-lily​ @cuchulainnx19​ @davidoodles​ @eorzeashan​ @exlibrisastra​ @grandninjamasterren​ @kemendin​ @kindredsembrace @lonewolfel​ @lordviridis​ @magicallulu7​ @nekorinnie​ @nyrialydia @shabre-legacy​ @shynmighty​ @space-unicorn-dottaraum @vihola​ @wackyart​ @walk-ng-saster @war-of-wrath​ @swtorhub​

[krisslegacy]

having a freak out i was JUST thinking this

They should bring back the Barsen’thor title specifically to give it to Avar Kriss.

[cinlat]

“Help me understand.” The woman’s voice is calm, barely above a whisper but, Caldus feels it in his soul. She emanates peace and serenity, two things he’s been seeking for the better part of three years. Maybe his entire life.

The young Cathar sitting to Caldus’s left fidgets, then seems to remember himself and goes still. He’s a skinny thing, all arms and spindly limbs compared to Caldus’s bulk. There’s a gleam in the boy’s flame colored eyes that warns Caldus that he might not be as young as he looks.

“Let’s start with your name.” Hers is Jedi Master Notiac Carlo. She is soft, colored like a summer sunset of Caldus’s homeworld. Her curls drape gracefully over slim shoulders, but there is an air of power about her. It’s different from the Sith. They are bravado and rage. The Force presence that Caldus senses in Master Carlo is like a warm breeze over a field of flowers. It could gust into violence, but for now, it is calm.

“My name is Caldus,” he begins, staring down at the helmet in his hands. It was all he managed to grab before fleeing Korriban. He couldn’t bear to part with it, nor could he put it on. This helmet, with its artfully swept forward tusks and intimidating crest symbolizes everything he hates; that he’s afraid of. It also symbolizes friendship born in the fires of trauma and inside jokes; a small kindness in a sea of madness. He is proud to own it, but he’s ashamed that he left the giver behind.

Taking a shuddering breath, Caldus forges on. “I am—was—a Sith acolyte awaiting to be chosen by a master. They found me on a docking platform at the edge of the galaxy and stole me for their own. When I met the Jedi captive, my task was to feed him information that would influence the positioning of Republic military forces to open the way for a Sith invasion.”

“You didn’t do that,” Master Carlo says, her head tilted to one side. She wears a mask over her eyes. It’s simple, yet elegant, with pearls and beads accentuating the lines of her face.

Caldus can’t hold her gaze. Though her eyes remain hidden from him, he can feel her attention. Instead, he rubs his thumb over a scratch in his hamlet’s surface. He wonders idly why they let him keep this one, with it’s sharp points and menacing edges, but took the other. “I did. Then, I decided to go with him.”

Events had moved quickly after that. Caldus and the Jedi prisoner snuck onto a transport under the guise of an escort mission. Then found an escape pod, and the Jedi activated a beacon after they had drifted far enough. Master Carlo and her Padawan had answered the call with a contingency of political statesmen and a full platoon of special forces soldiers. Caldus had not resisted when they surrounded him.

“Do you wish to join the Jedi?” She asks.

It’s the question Caldus knew would come, yet he still doesn’t have an answer. He had joined the docking crews who flew merchants to distant colonies to pedal their wares to get away from Orsimer Prime. He can’t crawl back to his tribe as a failure. They would accept him, but Caldus’s pride would forever keep his eyes to the ground. Better to stay out here and find his way. At least with the Jedi, he wouldn’t be forced to murder innocents to cater the favor of madmen.

Caldus tucks the helmet into his lap and looks up at the woman. His half-helm had been confiscated upon his arrest, leaving his unique features exposed. Neither the woman nor the Cathar appeared concerned by the tusks jutting from his lower lip or the claws tipping his fingers. He supposed the Cathar, at least, wasn’t intimidated by those.

“Would I be welcome?” Caldus counters after the silence drags on for too long. “I was trained to be Sith, and I am liable to stand out in your ranks.”

“Would you prefer not to?” Master Carlo holds out one hand to her Padawan, Caldus’s half-helm appearing seemingly from nowhere. His fingers itch to grab it as it hovers into her waiting grasp. A test, most likely.

Clearing his throat, Caldus nods. “I prefer a certain level of anonymity.”

“Then you’ll have it.” The woman holds out the helm.

Caldus hesitates, reaching out with his senses for any sign of a trap. When he finds none, he carefully lifts it from her hand and places it over his head. The familiar brush of fabric against the bridge of his nose eases some of the dread sitting in his chest. With his eyes and large ears hidden, he could pass for any number of large species known to the greater galaxy.

“I will not murder with the Force,” Caldus states, emboldened by the return of his flimsy shield. Before the Sith, he used his abilities to make work easier on the dock. He shifted heavy cargo and performed amusing tricks. The Sith wanted him to turn that gift into a weapon against nulls. There was no honor in it. Caldus would fight with his sword, a blaster, or his fists. But he refuses to wield against another living being ever again.

“We would not presume to infringe on your religious customs.” This from the Padawan who now leaned forward with his forearms braced on his thighs. An intricate pattern of darker lines marks the fur around his eyes, nose, and mouth. Perhaps, after some time around beings less humanoid than the ones in the Sith ranks, Caldus might be comfortable baring his uniqueness to the galaxy too.

Even with most of his face covered, Caldus’s surprise must be evident because Master Carlo chuckles and Caldus is momentarily distracted by the beauty of the sound. There is no malice in it, just the amusement of a woman who has seen far stranger things than him. “Kadu has made a point to research our more obscure neighbors. He wishes to be a healer, and thus he learns everything he can about the races he might encounter. Your kind is known to us, Caldus. You are welcome and safe.”

Caldus nods, his throat suddenly too tight to speak. Only one person has taken the time to learn about him in recent years, and he isn’t sure whether it is because she was working an angle or because they are friends—were friends, he supposes. It is unlikely that she’ll forgive him for abandoning her.

The woman stands from the stool she’d placed in front of Caldus for their conversation and stretches her back. From this angle, he sees the signs of age around her mouth and under her chin. She too is older than she appears. “If you do not wish to be the aggressor,” she begins, tipping the mask in his direction. “How do you feel about being the shield?”

“Like, protecting people?” It’s a stupid question, but Caldus needs a clear answer before he agrees.

Master Carlo nods, a smile pulling at her lips like he will be a particularly fascinating puzzle. It’s Kadu who speaks, though. “Who do you think would be best to teach him?” Those flame bright eyes turn towards Caldus, weighing him with experience that Kadu looks too young to have. “Shielding is tricky, but if you are willing to put in the work—”

“I will,” Master Carlo answers before Kadu finishes his sentence. “You will soon be leaving me to practice with the medical universities. I have the flexibility for a second Padawan if we play our cards right.”

Caldus’s attention bounces back and forth between his new allies while they discuss his future. Hope tugs at his ribs, urging him to take this chance. He’s escaped the Sith, if things turn sour, he can escape the Jedi as well. “I agree,” Caldus blurts into their conversation before he can talk himself out of it. He’s lost out here with nowhere else to go anyway. Maybe this can be the way he atones for the wrongs he’s committed.

The Sith taught him to destroy. Now, Caldus will learn to preserve.

*Caldus is my new guy based on a fanmade race called Orcolans. I didn’t make them, but so much work and love obviously went into their creation that it felt wrong not to use it after I stumbled across them. Obviously, swtor doesn’t have that option, so Caldus got a fancy half-helm so that he could still show off his lovely beard. Eventually, he’ll move to a full helmet to avoid stares and awkward conversations.

**He was 19 years old when he escaped the Sith and fell into the Barsen’thor’s lap quite literally. This probably won’t turn into a full story, but be a fun little world for me to play in. It’s an offshoot of the Sith Fynta AU. So…and AU of an AU?

***This was meant to be a 500 word quick drabble….it grew.

[fleeting-sanity]

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Thank you to @swtorramblings for proof-reading!

He slept for the longest time in his entire life, dreamless. His body was still weak; in this year alone, there were too many times where he had to be rescued and nursed back to life. They kept insisting on repaying his kindness that way, which took him back to his own words of extending compassion to others. His eyes stared at his foot, and he told himself to not waste this chance.

But his senses told him that things were bad out there. He wanted to leave Dantooine as soon as possible, believing himself to be fully cured and fit to resume duty. However, he received a surprise guest early the next day.

“Hey. Just wanted to stop by to check on you. I heard from your sister.”

“Thank you. I’m touched you thought of me. Um… how are you doing?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m fine, I just found a lead on my objective. Also, Arn’s going to be Knighted next week, just wanna tell you that.”

“That’s amazing! I’ll be sure to attend and give my commendations.”

Tau chuckled. “Look, don’t worry about it. I’ll try to holo you if you can’t make it.”

It always warmed his head whenever he was around Tau’s presence, for reasons unknown. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself, or her beautiful features. Further into their conversation, Tau looked like she just realized something. She hesitated for a second before delivering the news.

“Have you watched the broadcast? I can hardly believe that Vaylin is actually alive, after all this time. But I’m glad she won’t be a problem anymore. She and her brother might be sentenced harshly.”

To say that Riornivo was gobsmacked was an understatement. His reaction surprised her, and they were both speechless for a few seconds. The Barsen’thor snapped out of it, embarrassed by the figurative potential of a fly entering his gaping mouth. “I, um… she’s… alive?”

“You seem… surprised.” Tau could sense that wasn't the right word, but asking more felt like prying. The atmosphere turned awkward, when they were mingling with mirth just then. She bid farewell to her fellow Jedi after stating her intention of resuming her mission.

He had to take a moment to sit and digest the information presented to him. That was what his senses were telling him, he thought. Vaylin’s anonymity was never promised permanence, but he didn’t think it would be revealed this soon. Anxiety scoured his psyche, wanting to meet her immediately. There was another thought of how it came to this, which led him to phoning his twin brother. The first few dials failed with a busy signal.

“Red.”

“Can we talk later? I’m-”

“Please, Red. I know-” “I know you know. I think it’s best if we talk in person. I’ll come there tomorrow, don’t go anywhere.”

Rionnic quickly ended the call, feeling unprepared to talk about the situation. He was fortunately saved from follow up calls by his sister knocking on Riornivo’s door. Vyria immediately sighed upon looking at her brother’s facial expression. Before he could utter a single word however; “Hold on. Just… hold on a minute okay? Let me go get my tea real quick!”

Vyria returned as fast as she went. Seeing her face meek and frowny made Riornivo rein back on his intense desire for the truth. This would be a calm and rational conversation–the basics of being a Jedi. 

“Yeah, alright, okay, you’re going to talk about her. Look, before anything, I haven’t been on Odessen since I got here. This is all I’ve heard from Red. She’s safe with her brother. She turned herself in, no casualties–no fuss. I think her Mom’s with the grandkids. Uhh… what else is there…”

“Thank you. Please be at ease, Snowy. I see that you’re quite flustered.”

His observation was confirmed by her taking a big gulp from her cup. “Oh, oh yeah… one more thing. She uh, she doesn’t wanna see anyone. Including you.”

Riornivo nodded. Frankly, his reaction wasn’t what Vyria was expecting.

“Huh… okay, here's some advice you didn’t ask for,” as Vyria’s index finger shot up, her face relaxing. “Maybe this time, you should heed her request–leave her alone, and don’t play into your feelings for her, okay? Remember the Code.”

“W-what feelings? I’m just concerned–didn’t you say Arcann was there too?”

“Ugh, you’re so bad at lying. But you reaaaallly have to listen. Give her space and time,” and then Vyria got up from her seat to leave; “Oh, and… could you uh, bake me a Bestine Threeberry pie again? The one with the golden sauce.”

He gave his sister an affirmation with a chuckle, but not a second later it reminded him of the taste of Vaylin’s cooking. His smile faded. He couldn’t help but feel as if she was plunged back into the worst time of her life all over again, undoing the progress they both have been through. Whether the latter part was true or not, all he could do was nothing, and it corroded him inside.

Perhaps he should write her a letter. With ink.

The first few drafts stacked the refuse bin, but then he remembered to not leave any trace of correspondence between them. Every letter started with an apology. What he wanted was to clarify his feelings towards her, but the concept sounded a little too illogical for him. He tried rationalizing the resistance towards it by two fronts: that it was not what Vaylin needed at that time of strife, and he wanted to keep it to himself. Vaylin deserved more than a man such as him. He kept delaying finishing the letter, as life kept borrowing him away from her.   

But the letter was smuggled in anyway, now in Vaylin’s hands. She kept staring at it, almost going a full day without opening it.

For a cell so completely anti-Force, the lack of intense surveillance perplexed her. Was the Alliance undermanned or under-funded? But it was definitely better than her cell in Nathema. She recalled how there was no privacy inside the glass-walled cage–just another factor designed to break her will. There were no taunts, no torture, no experiments, no conditioning. It was more than she deserved, she thought. 

There were no visitors allowed as per her request, except for Serrus, who handed her the letter. 

Dear Vaylin,

I hope this letter finds you well, despite your circumstances. I want to apologize for the way we parted ways that day. I wish things would have been different… You’ve been an invaluable lesson for me, and I don’t want it to stop. But if you wish to not see me, I respect that. If it’s the opposite instead, I will eagerly fly to your side. You can always confide in me about anything.

Your nieces are healthy and loved. I visited Aryuni and Senya the other day. Understandably, they were deprived of the spirit and drive they once had, but I’m going to help them through it. I’ll make sure they’d always have everything they need without assuming Arcann’s role. Speaking of him, we talked recently about logistics and the reason behind your decision. Without talking to you directly, I can only take Arcann’s words with discretion. We’re working together with your defense team for the trial.

I know you want to be responsible for your actions, but I can’t help believing that you deserve compassion, or another chance living the life free of your father’s dominion and isolation. 

I apologize if my words offend you… or come across as patronizing. You are a strong, independent, insightful, and talented woman. The more I get to know you, the more I admire you. I treasure the times we spent together, and I thank you for being the person you are.

Warmest regards,

Riornivo

She scanned the letter repeatedly to look for something more obvious. It left her feeling rejected yet again, it was as if he was saying nothing while skirting around the subject they should be discussing between them. Of course, the news about her nieces and the outside world was a relief to hear, but it was nothing Serrus had not already relayed to her. She crumpled then threw the letter, annoyed at his empty yet honeyed words. It was unexplainable, but she didn’t feel abandoned this time. The people who mattered to her were all in her corner, and she was sure they’d understand her condition of wanting solitude. Especially that stupid Jedi.

She picked the letter back up, straightened it and kept it inside a cabinet.

Shortly after, a group of Knights and droids delivered additional amenities for her. Even without looking inside their helmets, she could tell that they were on high alert, some nervous, some afraid of her presence. The only words exchanged were that of the Paladin stating their purpose then excusing themselves.

There was an easel with art supplies, a holonet receiver, some gardening equipment, and a datapad. Most of these objects could hypothetically be used as tools for escaping, and she was sure Rionnic knew of that. But from her point of view, this generosity felt unusual for someone like him. Was it his twin brother instead? 

She ignored the new additions to her cell and went to sleep.

From the next day onwards, there were interrogations after another. She mostly spaced out during them, unable to disperse that foggy layer made of his words. Another part of her desperately reached around the darkness for the remorse she should be feeling. 

“Vaylin? Are you listening?”

“It was Arcann who ordered it. I’m just an observer.”

“And what about Voss? Exactly six months and twenty one days after the… five worlds.”

“That was me.”

She admitted to every single crime and atrocities. That wasn’t a popular move with her defense team, but they were aiming for damage reduction anyways. Those discussions with them were droll to her–she wanted to get it over with while leaning towards capital punishment. An instance stood out to her though; one of her lawyers had a wild idea of her seeking asylum in the Empire. He pitched the idea as a gamble: that maybe she would be feared and respected over there, instead of facing consequences. Another lawyer, a Neimoidian woman named Britu, laughed at that.

“You’re kidding, right? Don’t waste our visitation time. Focus on our case!”

She wouldn’t want that anyways; she’s had enough of being used as a weapon. When asked about Arcann’s choice, the lawyers responded by working towards a life sentence. Understandable, as his twin daughters still needed their father. The next days proceeded as usual for her; utilizing the tools she was given with. She painted an abstract piece depicting broken wings representing light amidst the blood and darkness.

Deep down, she felt a vague unfulfillment looming over her heart. 

She waited until there was a break from building her case to utilize the tools given to her for escaping. The note she left stating that she would return to her cell after a few days would probably be ignored, but that’s their problem. All of her escape attempts failed at Nathema, but Odessen felt like it was intentionally unguarded. Was this a ploy of the evil twin? To make her punishment even worse, perhaps?

Being a new master of disguises, she successfully got off the planet by sneaking into an aid shipment and landed on Dubrillion. The feeling of distributing aid to the people she massacred was indescribable. Her hands were shaking. A child amputee was among the ones receiving food from her hands. The girl smiled and thanked her.

“Auntie? Why are your hands shaking?”

It wasn’t just her hands, but her voice as well. “U-uh I, I just… haven’t had b-breakfast yet! Don’t worry about me!”

It wasn’t as if she hadn't seen an amputee before–the example was one of her own blood. But the sight and smell of the destruction did something different to her this time. The way the child hurdled back to wherever she came from, limping and alone. Her co-workers ushered her to resume the distribution upon seeing her idle, but she couldn’t function well due to the overwhelming feeling. She tried defining what it was.  

She was scared of those victims. 

Soon it was break time for the Alliance crew. Her coworkers barely ate anything, and instead spent the time preparing for more aid and helping the restoration effort–the latter had the most participants of the Force-wielding nature, including her. Her Knight disguise allowed her to freely utilize the Force, but cautiously so as to not alert the others of her power. Brick by brick, she reconstructed some destroyed houses and infrastructures. While most of the Alliance personnel retreated to rest their tired bodies, she kept on going. Throughout the process, anxiety never loosened its grip on her. It didn’t matter how many buildings she helped to repair, the dread would not go away.

As the day turned to dusk, she was again approached by the girl from earlier. 

“Hi auntie… we’ve been watching you for so long. Would you want to join us and rest? Please? Aren’t you tired?”

The sweetness of the girl’s tone made her finally stop. When the girl escorted her with the hand on her remaining arm, it made her weak. It didn’t help that the girl almost resembled her twin nieces. She altered her voice as best as she could to ask for the girl’s name.

“My name’s Aulia. What’s yours?

“Um… Syl. You can call me Syl.”

She didn’t dare say a word throughout their short journey to the encampment. There she saw children playing joyfully despite their circumstances. Some Republic soldiers were cooking food en masse, some medics applying tourniquets, some were preparing for a funeral not far from there. 

“He survived initially–for almost a year... Which is remarkable despite the lack of resources we have to help him. The last of his family. But we’ve let him know that he’s loved and remembered…”

The hushed eulogy she overheard distracted her from Aulia who handed her a bread. She apologized sheepishly, but couldn’t think of an excuse as to why she wouldn’t eat the bread yet. Undoing her disguise there would be like a death sentence, especially with how she was careful to stay in Aulia’s good graces. She prayed that the child would buy her next excuse: that she had to answer nature's call first. Luckily, it worked.

She planned to eat but not before finding a spot away from any eyes on her. 

Taking off her Knight helmet, she began eating the bread, which was stale. Every few bites, she kept rotating her head around, paranoid and jittery. It was such an effort to calm herself down–the helmet made things worse, but she had to put it back on before anyone saw her. 

But someone saw her.

[witchpig-04]

The Battlemaster and the Barsen’thor

This is an illustration of two Star Wars: The Old Republic original characters; the one that looks like me is Arthurigan, (my Jedi Knight,) and the Twi’lek is Veltifa, (my friend Evie’s* Jedi Consular.)

This took forever! It started as a crappy pencil sketch made during an English lecture, then I created a blender scene to work out the composition and then create lighting and shape reference.

The final product you see here is a combination of 2D digital drawing+painting and 3D rendering; the characters are entirely 2D, while the background is largely 3D, with some 2D paintover to create motion trails etc.

*@ milfsenya on Instagram

[reconstructionlegacy]

Theron: I'm not “culturally Jedi.”

Msr. Brider Surriss, Barsen’thor: When someone told you they were your father, did you or did you not say you were sorry they were struggling with this emotionally but that it was nothing to do with you?

Theron:

Theron: I don't like it, but that's a point.

[abysskeeper]

A soft glow emanated from the holocron hovering in her palm while it activated, the mechanisms within sliding into place as it resonated with the Force flowing from her. The power exuding from the small artifact was, paradoxically, as comforting in its familiarity as it was disconcerting in its strangeness. Then again, she expected nothing less.

The holocron belonged to her once. It was Barsen’thor’s.

Commission by the wonderful Icezimy on DA! Sometimes you just get an idea in your head, and sometimes an artist can just bring it to life better than you imagined.

[kemendin]

Now that I’ve finished the Consular story, some Vanirr ramblings as I try to get a proper handle on his character….

He and Caspian were on Tython together as Padawans, though Vanirr was a couple of years older. Where Cas was stubborn and struggled with some aspects of being a Jedi, Vanirr was a natural, taking easily to the Order’s philosophies of tranquility and detachment. And it wasn’t just that it worked for him - even as a Padawan he had a deep-thinking mind, and he understood what was being taught on levels that usually took many more years of study.

Consequently, he and Cas did not get along well - not exactly rivals or adversaries, but Vanirr tends to be very preachy and ready with Jedi aphorisms, which didn’t mesh well at all with Cas’ logical mind and inability to remain calm or passive. You know that episode of DS9 with Sisko and his Vulcan rival at the academy? Take out the deliberate heckling/antagonism, and that’s Cas and Vanirr.

On the surface, Vanirr is a paragon of the Order - tempered and calm, skilfully using words to negotiate and mediate, steeped in wisdom from endless hours in the Jedi archives, always seeking to help and to learn. He is a veritable beacon of the light side. While trained as a ‘Shadow’, when he moves unseen and undetected, it’s actually because he’s melded with the light - he can either radiate or become a part of the whole, depending on the situation.

Unfortunately, this is where the expression ‘blinded by the light’ becomes painfully apt. Vanirr develops a sort of unknowing arrogance, fuelled by both the Jedi’s affirmations of his virtues and his own successes through the class story, shielding and sanctifying those corrupted by the dark side. He comes to believe that this is his calling - to purge the darkness from whatever place or person he can. And if he has to kill someone to do it - well, all things have their time, don’t they? He’s just causing that time to arrive a little sooner.

His weakness is for knowledge, for relics and holocrons. In his blind devotion to the light, he believes that even the darkest of Sith secrets can find no hold on him, if he stands true to the Jedi ways. Ultimately, this is what does him in, and causes him to fall prey to Darth Syphon, Head of Ancient Knowledge on the Dark Council. Syphon lures him with the promise of such secrets, captures him, corrupts him, and the fabled Barsen’thor falls. Cas encounters him at some point thereafter, and there’s such irony there - that this Master of the light side should be so deeply tainted, should succumb to the dark, when the Knight who faced the Emperor himself, who still feels that shadow inside him, did not fall. I’m not sure yet what the outcome of that encounter is - if Cas kills Vanirr, or tries to save him and brings him back to the Jedi to see if they can help.

Buuuut that’s a ways off in my brain. Meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out Vanirr’s personal life. He’s told me that he ends up with two partners, in one sense or another - Nadia and Felix. It’s hard to define his relationship with Nadia - he’s her mentor of course, but there’s also a deeper bond that veers almost into romance, yet not quite. It’s not a sexual relationship at all, and barely even physical, aside from some fond kisses here and there. Felix, on the other hand, is a much more casual relationship, less attachment, more ‘comradery with a side of occasionally sleeping together’. I’ve actually never had a poly OC before, so this is interesting to mull over.

Anyway. That's what I've got for this lad right now!

[sith-shenanigans]

Every so often I say to myself, “Oh, right, I need to decide who did the Imperial Taris planet quest,” and then recall that I don’t have an Imperial Taris planet quest. Any more than I have a Republic Belsavis planet quest. For what is, roughly speaking, the same reason.

(That reason is not “the PC assigned the quest went rogue.” That reason is “well, we were trying to have this plotline, and then the Barsen’thor showed up.”)

[lanabenikosdoormat]

Wrath

Barsen’thor

Cipher Nine

[aeskanera]

Rakiya Ighazi

Jedi Consular, she/her

“There is no passion, there is serenity”

Themes:

What the role of a peacekeeper becomes during a war

The contributions of our actions to the fate of the universe around us

Coming face to face with the casualties of war

Compromise

The role of trust in politics and diplomacy

Motifs:

Green - nature, healing, relaxation

Lozenge/Rhombus/Diamond - mysticism, fertility, connection, femininity

Wood - life, growth, flexibility, benevolence, cooperation

[swtorpadawan]

SWTORpadawan Headcanon: The Unforgiven

There are several passing references in the game to what happened on Tython during the five-year gap in Knights of the Fallen Empire. Right out of the gate, Lana specifically informs the Outlander that the Jedi Order took devastating casualties during the war and doesn’t know anything about any surviving leadership. The romanced Nadia Grell letter specifically mentions the attack on Tython, while Kira concludes her own letter by informing us that the Jedi Order was “dying”.

Much later, of course, we meet the Jedi who evacuated to Ossus in Jedi Under Siege, who are completely unaware of everything that’s happened around the galaxy in the past five or six years.       

The conclusion we come to is that the Zakuulans attacked Tython, and some of the Jedi escaped to Ossus. (Even bringing some of the Kalikori villagers along with them.)

In my Halcyon Legacy Storyline, I’ve featured this largely unchronicled event in a couple of short stories: This Moment and How We Came to This Point. We have almost no “canon” details about it, although from what we see later on Ossus, it is clear that some or all of the Kalikori villagers went with the evacuees. (In my story, this was a minority of the Twi’leks who chose to join the exile, and Kalikori Village still stands on Tython.)

But let me expand on all that: One head-canon I have is that when the Jedi were preparing for the attack and their evacuation, they realized that they would need several defense teams to slow the Zakuulans down. A sort of “rear guard” if you will. Given their experiences with the Eternal Empire up to that point, they knew that losses to these special groups would be extremely heavy, assuming any of those Jedi made it off Tython at all.

One of these combat teams of volunteers (one that formed organically rather than by design) was made up entirely of Force-users who had experienced the touch of darkness in their respective pasts. Each of them carried a degree of responsibility and guilt for the circumstances of their lives. That didn’t mean they didn’t believe in the Jedi Order and their precepts; on the contrary, most of them were quite grateful to the order for their help. But individually, each of them came to the conclusion that if the Order was to begin anew, they would need to save as many Jedi of all ranks as they could, even at the cost of their own lives.

At the suggestion of one of their members, the group would call themselves ‘the Unforgiven’.

When the remaining members of the Jedi Council – Archivist Gnost-Dural and Barsen’thor Ulannium Kaarz – protested that it went against every principle the Jedi held dear to place individuals at risk of being sacrificed on the basis of their past experiences. The nominal leader of the Unforgiven – one Bengel Morr –countered that they weren’t seeking forgiveness from the Council or the Order; they were thankful they had already been given that. Rather, they were seeking to forgive themselves.

The Council still objected to the name but under the circumstances, they could not deny the group’s right to fight for the Order.  

As the might of the Eternal Empire descended upon Tython, the Unforgiven held the line. Every time it appeared the Knights of Zakuul and their legions of Skytroopers would break through and turn the retreat into a massacre, the Unforgiven were there, forcing the Eternal Empire to pay for every inch and making sure that as many Jedi as possible were saved.

In the aftermath of the exodus, in recognition of their sacrifice, Gnost-Dural vowed that the courage of the Unforgiven would forever be remembered in the Jedi Archives.

Without further ado, I present the Unforgiven.

Master Surro and the two survivors of the Seventh Line. We first encounter Master Surro and the Seventh Line on Ziost. [There’s a whole bunch about the Seventh Line that I find controversial, including whether or not Satele Shan and the Council even knew about them and what they were doing on Ziost. Instead, we only hear about them from Theron or Lana, even if we are playing a Jedi Master sitting on the Council.] Nevertheless, Vitiate’s possession of Surro and the others was one of the best subplots of the Rise of the Emperor story. Naturally, during my playthrough with Corellan Halcyon, he spared Surro (despite Lana’s protests) and the two other unnamed Seventh Line members, as well. (They couldn’t have given them names???) In the months that followed, Surro and the others were treated with kindness by the Jedi, but when the Eternal Empire appeared poised to strike at Tython, remembering the harm they had done on Ziost under Vitiate’s influence, they were among the first to volunteer for the defense teams.

Among the Unforgiven, they would be among the first to die during the retreat, covering the final withdrawal from the Temple.

[Tagging @swtorramblings and @starknstarwars ]

Fortris Gall.  Seventeen years before the fall of Tython, Fortris Gall had been an impressive young Jedi Knight during the closing days of the First Great Galactic War. A hero during the first battle of Balmorra, Gall bitterly opposed the conditions of the Treaty of Coruscant. Joining a conspiracy led by Master Dar’nala, Gall took part in the bombing of the Galactic Senate on Coruscant in an effort to vacate the Treaty by blaming the Sith for the act of terrorism. After a fateful encounter on Dantooine with Satele Shan, Darth Baras and Darth Angral, Gall realized the extent of his error, abandoning Dar’nala to her fate.  

Gall understood that if he returned to the Jedi and the Republic, he would be held responsible for his crimes. Unable to face his former Master – the legendary Orgus Din, who sat on the Jedi Council, Gall withdrew into the Outer Rim. There, far from the frontline galactic conflicts, he rediscovered what it meant to be a Jedi in his own way, helping isolated colonies to resist attacks by pirates and slavers.

He eventually found a measure of peace.

When the Eternal Empire began its campaign against the known galaxy, Gall initially declined to get involved. He was well aware of his own legacy and was worried that he would repeat his mistakes.

But when he heard that Orgus Din had been slain years before while fighting Darth Angral at the start of the Second Galactic War, Gall realized he had to make peace with his time as part of the Jedi Order. He arrived on Tython mere days before the attack, and – after meeting with Bengel Morr, another former apprentice of Din’s – immediately joined the Unforgiven. During the fighting, he bravely felled three Zakuulan Walkers single-handedly with his twin lightsabers before finally being cut down by an Exarch.

Fashk. Growing up, the Flesh Raider known as Fashk always knew he was different from most of his people. He saw things that they didn’t. Felt things that they didn’t. Eventually, during the Flesh Raider uprising of 10 ATC, he realized he shared the gifts of the hated Jedaii. Desperate to earn his place with the Order and learning that they had recently begun supporting the Kalikori villagers, Fashk abducted a young Twi’lek named Viyo Kobbeth. This led him to the attention of a talented Padawan on Tython in Corellan Halcyon, who sought to rescue the pilgrim. Despite the severe nature of the situation, Corellan agreed to support Fashk’s introduction into the Order. At last, he would become a mighty hunter.

The next few years were difficult for Fashk. Although he was talented in the Force, denying his own aggression went against every instinct that had been ingrained in him as a Flesh Raider, both genetic and cultural. Nevertheless, he managed not to attack any of his fellow trainees, so he maintained his place with the Jedi, tentative though it was.

Finally given the chance to see combat on the world of his birth, Fashk was quick to volunteer for the toughest combat assignment available to cover the evacuation, and that meant the Unforgiven.

During the attack, the Flesh Raider lashed out with the Force with a ferocity that startled the Zakuulans, briefly driving them back and buying the Jedi precious moments.

Fashk was never happier than in the last moment of his life.

Loyat. Loyat was a life-long Sith, trained on Korriban and apprenticed to Darth Arho, a Dark Councilor and Loyat’s eventual lover. Later as a Sith Lord, Loyat fought under Arho’s command during the Battle of Ilum. Abandoned by her master during a Republic counterattack, Loyat was defeated and captured by Corellan Halcyon and Kira Carsen. Realizing that everything Arho had taught her had ultimately been a lie, she abandoned the teachings of the Sith. After a relatively short time in a Republic prison, Loyat – at Corellan’s recommendation – was sent to Tython to begin her recovery and possible training as a Jedi, should she accept it.

Although grateful for the chance to work through her trauma, Loyat struggled to fully embrace the Jedi path. Her emotions were too close to the surface for her to make that commitment. When the Eternal Empire was poised to attack Tython, the Jedi were prepared to designate Loyat as a dependent and prioritize her evacuation. Partially out of gratitude and partially out of pride, Loyat insisted on joining the defensive combat teams. Knowing her history with Corellan on Ilum, Bengel Morr recommended her for the Unforgiven.

Loyat fought bravely against the Zakuulans, destroying dozens of Skytroopers until she was eventually knocked unconscious in an artillery explosion from an Eternal Empire walker as the Unforgiven fell back.

Loyat was officially listed as “Missing – Presumed Killed” in the Jedi Order’s after-action report. After all, it seems implausible to believe she could have survived…  

[Author’s Note: Tagging Loyat’s #1 fan girl, @raven-of-domain-kwaad as well as @alexsrandomramblings ]

Sajar. Once a member of the Dark Council years ago before his defeat at Tol Braga’s hands, the path to redemption has been a long one for Sajar who faced numerous setbacks over the years. His lapse on Quesh while commanding Republic troops led to him executing several prisoners of war and led to a fateful encounter between the Hero of Tython, Corellan Halcyon, and the Emperor’s Wrath, Lord Scourge.

Sajar spent years recovering from his ordeal on Quesh determined not to falter again. When he heard that Tol Braga, who had been his master, had succumbed to the Emperor’s mind control techniques, it led to another crisis of faith, this time leaving him catatonic for a time. While in this state, Sajar experienced several Force-visions involving Corellan Halcyon.

Although he again recovered, word that Halcyon had been killed aboard Darth Marr’s flagship darkened his mood. When it was clear the Zakuulan’s attack on Tython was imminent, he was among the first to volunteer for the combat teams.

During the fighting, the Unforgiven were briefly at risk of being encircled, which would have allowed the Eternal Empire to bypass their defense and strike at the Jedi ships as they lifted off planet. Recognizing that the Order’s survival meant far more to him than the inner peace of a single faltering Jedi, Sajar reached out to the Dark Side and embraced the power that had once been his as one of the most powerful Sith in the galaxy. The Zakuulans, unprepared to face the tactical challenge of a potent Sith amongst the Jedi, were briefly stunned. As he unleashed a fearsome storm of lightning against the Knights of Zakuul, the last three survivors of his team were able to pull back and continue the fight, allowing the last of the evacuation ships to escape.

In the final seconds of his life, Sajar received the gift of one final vision from the Force. With tears trailing down his cheeks, he let out a cry of laughter as he saw that Corellan Halcyon had not only survived but that he would one day meet with the survivors of Tython, many of whom would owe their lives to Sajar.

Sajar did not die as a Jedi, but his sacrifice allowed many other Jedi to live.    

[Author’s Note: Special thanks to @taraum for the bit about Sajar having visions concerning Corellan’s future, as that concept was shamelessly pilfered from her amazing Motivations story that you should definitely go read. Also tagging @shabre-legacy ]

Ako Domi. A hero during the First Great Galactic War, Domi was captured by the Sith Empire during the Battle of Sullust, a conflict that earned him a legendary status in the Republic. Imprisoned at Shadow Town on Nar Shaddaa, Domi was subjected to horrific torments, and watching his fellow prisoners turn on each other eventually broke him. Now a Sith, Domi and his apprentices would eventually encounter Corellan Halcyon and Kira Carsen years later during the Power Guard Crisis. The two Jedi defeated the Sith, but Corellan refused to strike the killing blow on the former Jedi, instead insisting instead that Domi be sent to Tython in an attempt to recover his humanity. (Satele Shan later would commend Corellan for his decision, though predictably Jaric Kaedan would not.)

Domi’s return to the Jedi path was a slow and arduous one. Part of him embraced the familiarity of the Order and its teachings. But with the guilt with everything he had done, of the lives he had destroyed in Shadow Town, it took him years before he could trust himself to hold a lightsaber again.

But recover he did. Just in time to meet the Zakuulan invasion.

It was Ako Domi who dubbed the defense team ‘the Unforgiven’. None of the other members objected.

As the battle of Tython waged on, no one fought with greater zeal and determination than Domi. For a few hours, he was once again the Hero of Sullust, fighting in a hopeless battle.

He was one of just three Jedi left still fighting at the end.

Domi gave his life to allow Bengel Morr and Nalen Raloch a few fleeting moments to fall back to their last defensive trench, where they reported their status to the evacuation fleet in the final transmission from Tython.

Bengel Morr. Another former padawan of Jedi Master Orgus Din, Bengel Morr was traumatized by the destruction of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant during the Sack at the end of the last war. Withdrawing from the Order and the Force, Morr spent years navigating the galaxy’s criminal underworld, learning the ways of power. A decade of preparation later, he reemerged on Tython with an apprentice, determined to destroy the Jedi Order by controlling the Flesh Raiders.

Morr’s defeat at Corellan Halcyon’s hands at the end of the uprising was a revelation to him. In that moment at the Forge, he saw the true future of the Jedi, and he finally understood his own role to play in that destiny.

In the weeks that followed under the care of the Masters of Tython, Morr slowly started to recover. With his pain eased, he started to remember his old self. Bengel realized what he had done, and was left guilt-ridden, even more so when he learned of the death of Orgus Din at the hands of Darth Angral. But the consoling messages he received from Corellan helped ease his suffering, and by the Battle of Corellia, the short-handed Jedi were willing to send the recovered Nautolan into battle.

Morr distinguished himself during the fighting against the Sith, though witnessing the horrors of war first-hand once again raised the specters of Coruscant in the dark corners of his mind. Sensing his unease, the Masters allowed him to return to Tython as part of a training cadre; one that included Nalen Raloch, formerly of Kalikori Village. The very people who Morr had tormented during the Flesh Raider uprising he led.

Facing Nalen Raloch and his resentment on a daily basis proved to be one of the greatest challenges of Bengel’s life. The Twi’lek harbored considerable hatred towards the Nautolan for everything the pilgrims of his village had endured.

It took years for Bengel to earn Nalen’s trust and respect. But in the process, Bengel made peace with some of his own demons. The two became close friends.

The training cadre missed the fighting on Tython during the Sith Empire’s assault on the Temple before the Revanite Crisis as they were hundreds of kilometers away on a survey mission scouting the Flesh Raiders. A year later when it became clear that the Zakuulans intended to attack Tython, Bengel – who had endured two sackings of Jedi Temples – vowed he would not allow a third.

The Unforgiven were born, with Bengel as their nominal leader. And on Tython, Bengel Morr finally met his destiny, making peace with his past.

Nalen Raloch. Nalen Raloch had always been a protector. When the Kalikori pilgrims were driven from Ryloth, he protected them from their orthodox Twi’lek persecutors as a young warrior. After they settled on Tython, he emerged as his village’s champion, holding off the predators in the Flesh Raiders and other indigenous species.

But serving as a protector is a double-edged sword for every being; when he found the holocron of Rajivari, Raloch was seduced by the promise of power he needed to defend his people, and in the promise of striking back at the Jedi who had ignored his peoples’ suffering for all their posturing assertion of moral superiority.

It was only after his confrontation with a talented young Mirialan padawan named Ulannium Kaarz that Nalen realized that everything he was trying to do to protect his people would have led to their destruction had he not been stopped.

Nalen, under the care of the Jedi, slowly began to rebuild his life and his sense of identity.

He came to see the value in defending not just his own people, but all people. He came to understand that he could be a protector without letting that consume him.

When he was confronted with training beside the man who had led the Flesh Raider uprising, he was beyond disgusted. He nearly quit the Jedi on the spot.

But as time went on, he began to see Bengel’s compassion. His dedication. His commitment not only to the Jedi but to his own redemption for his actions.

Nalen would learn more from Bengel than he’d learned from anyone.

When Bengel volunteered to lead one of the defense teams, Nalen didn’t hesitate to join him, despite knowing the likely outcome.

During the Battle of Tython, Nalen fought hard, but he found himself increasingly distracted. As the Eternal Empire fell upon the Jedi home world, he was terrified that the Zakuulans would turn their eyes towards Kalikori Village, knowing that his people would have been wiped out had they sent even a handful of Skytroopers in that direction.

Had Bengel not been by his side, he would have abandoned the Jedi and returned to his old home in a desperate attempt to save his fellow Twi’leks.

As it stood, Nalen and Bengel were the last two living document Jedi on Tython. In the final message from the retreating Order, Ulannium, now a master on the Jedi council, exchanged kind words. The Barsen’thor further revealed that the Zakuulans had bypassed Kalikori Village, much to Nalen’s relief.

Nalen and Bengel were alone.

Before the end, the two exchanged a fleeting moment. They acknowledged the possibility of what might have been between them in another life.

Nalen had found what he had sought for so long; the strength he’d needed to defend his people.

@grandninjamasterren @swtorhub

Thanks for reading.

[chaos-enchanted]

Well if this doesn’t add a nice little bit of love and angst for the Consular/Felix romance I don’t know what does.

For the record this is from the Consular Barsen’thor legacy mission on Rishi, where I’m guessing you’re hearing voices from the future when doing the meditation ritual.

[doodlepony]

Jedi Consular - Elinalin

Everyone’s got to have a desert character in Star Wars right? Meet Elinalin, queen of the jawas and my Barsen’thor.

I had a lot of fun with the textures on this one and playing around with new brushes.